


Liberty Leading The People

by mercuryhatter



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: M/M, V-day fic, has someone done this before, probably
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-15
Updated: 2013-02-15
Packaged: 2017-11-29 08:35:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/684963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mercuryhatter/pseuds/mercuryhatter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Valentine's Day + art students = putting one's significant other into historical paintings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Liberty Leading The People

**Author's Note:**

  * For [truethingsproved](https://archiveofourown.org/users/truethingsproved/gifts).



> Valentine's Day gift for the lovely Dusky. <3

”And Jehan’s favorite metaphor, the one with the cherry trees, that’s all fine and good but I’d go for something about oak trees and autumn, honestly—”

Grantaire is absently ranting about Valentine’s Day while he paints because it helps him to focus. He’d be talking even if Enjolras wasn’t sitting across the table from him, honestly, but even though he knows he isn’t required to listen Enjolras is listening to him anyway. He’s been friends with Grantaire for a while, which means he’s been subject to many such rambling talks, but his Valentine’s Day ones are usually far more bitter than this one.

Enjolras likes to think he could take at least a little credit for the change.

Grantaire pushes his hair out of his eyes, leaving a streak of bright red across his forehead, and Enjolras stands to get more coffee. As he passes he leans down to kiss Grantaire, almost automatically. He certainly doesn’t expect Grantaire to emit a sound remarkably like a shriek and nearly fall out of his chair.

“Eyes away, Apollo, it’s a surprise!” he yells, shooing at a surprised Enjolras with one paint-covered hand while the other one shields his canvas from view. Enjolras raises his eyebrows slowly and backs away, palms out.

“I wasn’t trying to look,” he says, amused. “I’m just getting more coffee.”

“Well, hurry up,” Grantaire says, petulant, still hiding the painting from view. Enjolras chuckles and makes a show of hiding his eyes as he goes to the kitchen and then returns, setting Grantaire’s refilled mug down on his own side of the table before pushing it with exaggerated care to Grantaire’s side.

“Thank you,” Grantaire says primly, finally moving his hands and returning to work.

It’s another couple of minutes before Enjolras leans forward, mostly just to see what Grantaire will do. He glares and abruptly paints a stripe of yellow across Enjolras’ nose, making him jerk back and look affronted.

“I said no looking,” Grantaire says sternly, shaking the paintbrush at him in a threatening manner. Enjolras scowls back at him and rubs at his nose.

“That was unnecessary.”

“So was trying to sneak a look. You’re good at a lot of things, Enj, but sneaking is not one of them.”

Enjolras concedes this and returns to his book as Grantaire starts up another rambling discussion about Greek gods and ninjas (Enjolras no longer has any idea what he’s talking about and honestly, Grantaire isn’t sure either).

The one-sided conversation has rolled around from Greek and Roman statuary to the Renaissance to complaining about his art history teacher before Grantaire throws his paintbrush down with a triumphant flourish.

“Ha! Finished. Lucky for my schoolwork I managed to combine your Valentine’s gift with my painting assignment.”

“Does that mean I can look now without risking bodily harm?” Grantaire looks suddenly shy. He runs a hand through his hair, apparently forgetting that blues and reds and whites are mixed on his fingers.

“Right, well, the assignment was a different interpretation of the famous painting of our choice. So, um, it’s… well, don’t make fun, but it was too good an opportunity to pass up.” Enjolras nods, waiting patiently as Grantaire mumbles a bit more, then finally turns the canvas around abruptly to let Enjolras see.

“It’s still wet, obviously, so the colors aren’t quite right yet, and obviously it’s not as good as Delacroix, and—”

This time Enjolras isn’t listening to Grantaire at all. He’s staring with wide eyes at the painting before him, a near-perfect copy of Delacroix’s _Liberty Leading The People_ , although Lady Liberty has been replaced with a fire-eyed young man, his shirt battered and bloodstained and slipping off one shoulder as he strides forward with a flag thrust up in one hand. His blond hair is almost halo-esque around his head and the features are perfect in their detail. It’s definitely Enjolras.

“It was a stupid idea, really, but you have to admit the parallels are striking, and just imagine all the shit you would have started during the Revolution—”

Enjolras contemplates jumping across the table to kiss him, but decides that he might accidentally smudge the painting and so he restrains himself long enough to step around it like a normal person before he’s practically flinging himself into Grantaire’s lap and taking his face in both hands to kiss him.

Grantaire is too surprised to react at first, but soon his arms are around Enjolras, tight as always as he pulls the other man close and opens his lips to him. Enjolras grips Grantaire’s curls and presses him close before finally releasing him, pulling away just far enough to let Grantaire see his expression.

“I love you,” he tells him. His tone is simple and direct. “And I love the painting.”

Grantaire’s grin is incandescent.

“I love you,” he responds, breathy and awed. “And the painting doesn’t do you justice.”


End file.
